


Flax

by ZodiacRiver



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Flowers, Fluff, M/M, Moving In Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-27 10:38:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15022805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZodiacRiver/pseuds/ZodiacRiver
Summary: Phichit moved in to Seung Gil's apartment, and a romantic, sweet little mess occurred.





	Flax

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a chapter to a multichapt story I wrote but I don't have the inspiration to continue it sooo

 

Seung Gil’s apartment room has always been quiet. That is, apart from the occasional barks and whimpers of his own dog. It was a minimalist, monochrome-style place with less furniture and no unnecessary decoration. Considering he was good at money management and provided the fact that he hated spending too much, he decided to set up lamps and bulbs with lower energy; therefore in the evening, especially during sunset, it would be a very romantic place.

 

It may sound pretty plain and uninteresting, but in truth, it looked just how a professional hotel room would look. Everything was clean and in perfect order, so that you possibly could not believe such a brilliantly organized place.

 

He was content with this. He liked the tranquility and peaceful ambience. Except, maybe things don’t always go the way it is forever. That’s the law of nature, isn’t it?

 

The presence of Phichit not only turned his life one hundred and eight degrees but most part of his home as well. Both of them took a one-year hiatus from their figure skating career, and, being in a long-distance relationship, Phichit was eager to take Seung Gil’s invitation to move in throughout the period.

 

So there he was, criticizing every corner of Seung Gil’s dwelling as ‘way too boring’. That was the first thing he did when he stepped his foot on the cold tiles.He brought beautiful ornaments to place on lonely desks and shelves, and hung photographs of the two of them on the walls.

 

“Phichit, I think that’s enough,” Seung Gil commented in slight distress when Phichit put down a ceramic vase of synthetic flower on the dining table. “You haven’t even packed out your clothes and stuff yet.”

 

“Yes, this is the last one,” Phichit answered, fingers slithering around the purple plastic petals. “Give me a break, baby. It was a long journey, and packing out is tiresome. Besides, this is my gift for us. Don’t you like it?”

 

“You call _that_ a break?”

 

He laughed. A warm, sunlight-infused laugh. “Pretty much. So, don’t you like it?”

 

“Having my house redecorated?”

 

“No, I mean the flowers.”

 

Seung Gil was sure he had seen the flower somewhere else before, though not sure enough to remember where he had seen it. And it wasn’t as if it was that significant or familiar for him to know the name. The petals are a light shade of purple, mixed with slight hue of blue. It was a lovely color.

 

“Yes. What’s it called?”

 

“Flax,” he beamed. “It’s pretty scarce, that’s why I can’t find the real one.”

 

“Flax—as in the flaxseeds?”

 

“Yeah. The flower is a symbol of domesticity. It matches the occasion, doesn’t it? You and I are about to begin a domestic life. So, this is like a good-luck charm.”

 

The way Phichit said it. The obvious sincerity that held tight on his words. How easy it was for Seung Gil to lose himself around him, and Phichit himself was probably clueless about the irresistible charm he casted.

 

Seung Gil’s arms moved on their own accord. He stepped forward, and they were already circled around Phichit’s slender waist at once. He buried his face on the crook of his neck, nose brushing against his collarbone. “You really are a hopeless romantic, aren’t you?”

 

“I guess you’ve got to bear with that, then!” Phichit’s hands slowly climbed up to Seung Gil’s hair in order to let his fingers intertwine with the thick, dark locks. “You know that I study Victorian flower language for fun. I think very metaphorically.”

 

“I don’t mind. But if you keep fooling around and not get your clothes in my wardrobe, I think I’ll actually mind that.”

 

“Mhm. But you have to promise that we take a picture tonight.”

 

“So demanding,” taking advantage of his own height and Phichit’s exposed collars, Seung Gil pulled him closer for a somewhat aggressive kiss. They had missed each other too much to not evaporate away all of the childlike gentleness. No matter how advanced technology was, nothing could compare to being able to finally touch each other again. “I’ll do that. Don’t use filters, though.”

 

Phichit muttered a ‘maybe’ before obliging to pack out his swollen suitcase. “Come help me out.”

 

Seung Gil knelt down to give him a hand, and Phichit rewarded that with a kiss on the cheek. He knew very well Seung Gil’s penchant for little affection. Despite his stoic appearance, of course.

 

“A lot of make-up, I see,” Seung Gil said upon finding a small clear pouch full of beauty products. “And—what the hell?”

 

“Oh, don’t look at my boxers like that,” Phichit sneered. “They’re very comfortable, you know. I don’t mind sharing.”

 

“Dinosaur,” he said as he picked up a triceratops-patterned boxer. “Robot. Mickey Mouse. Sonic. Bear. _Godzilla._ You’re kidding, right?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“You better not wear any of those _in bed_. It’s a turn off.”

 

“Ah, so picky,” Phichit whined in a joking tone, then launched himself to tackle Seung Gil to the floor in a giggling mess.

 

Phichit’s adorableness was clearly ineffable, and if it were to be measured, it would be off the meter. That being said, even Seung Gil couldn’t even coerce himself to stop the wild blush that spread around his face. Or even worse, the inevitable burst of _that_ feeling that assailed not only his chest but also his head. His attempt to not laugh along was forlorn miserably.

 

“I—get up, won’t you?”

 

Phichit smiled, but he got up and continued arranging his articles as if he didn’t _just_ make Seung Gil feel so goddamn giddy.

 

With their attention fully concentrated to their current activity, they didn’t notice the eager footsteps of Seung Gil’s dog until she barked enthusiastically by the door.

 

The dog had always adored Phichit; which sometimes pissed Seung Gil off of, well, jealousy—except the word may be a bit too strong to describe the situation.

 

“Oh—come, come here!” Phichit exclaimed in delight, and as soon as he said that, she ran towards him quickly to lick his neck. “What a beautiful babe.”

 

“She is. But she seems to like you more than she does me.”

 

“That’s not true. Look, she _loves_ you.”

 

She huffed and lied on Seung Gil’s lap, obviously asking to be petted, as if proving a point to Phichit’s words. Seung Gil, of course, couldn’t refuse.

 

“Seung Gil, can you put this on the nightstand, please?” Phichit shoved him something, like a statue. It was colored red and shaped like a pear. When he looked closer, he realized that it was a matryoshka. He remembered that as a child, he used to have one in his parents’ house; playing with it until the two smallest pieces were gone.

 

“Why?” he asked, even if he knew there was no point asking. Phichit thought it looked nice to be put on where he asked, so what?

 

Except he was mistaken. Phichit had a very reasonable answer for that.

 

“That’s Yuuri and Viktor’s wedding souvenir. You couldn’t go at that time, could you? I thought it’d be a good memento, since I’m probably not going to see them in a while. But—if you don’t want it there, I’ll keep it.”

 

“Why would you think I don’t want it here? It’s neat.” The crimson wood glistened as it reflected the light from the table lamp, which was just right above. The familiar face of the ‘woman’ painted on it stared into vacancy, which was somehow eerie for Seung Gil.

 

“Well, that’s cool, then,” Phichit stretched out when the last folded cloth was already placed nicely where it should be. “I’m starving.”

 

“So am I. You lie down. I’ll prepare something fast.”

 

“I’m not that bastard of a boyfriend to not at least go to the kitchen with you,” he chuckled.

 

“Okay,” Seung Gil replied, lifting up his thighs in a slight movement to let his dog know that he was about to stand. “I hope you’re not too tired to spill milk on my floor again.”

 

“Hey, now.”

 

Seung Gil’s kitchen was possibly the smallest room in the whole place. One stove with a built-in oven, one fridge, one dining table with two chairs, and three cupboards stuck on the wall. If it were a closed space, someone who hated them (Phichit, for instance) would regard it as the worst place in the world. Thankfully, it had no door, which brought another convenient: the smell of cooking was able to spread around.

 

“What do you want to eat?” Seung Gil asked.

 

“This is _your_ house,” Phichit cackled. “I’m fine with anything. I can cook something for you too.”

 

“I think you’ll be fainting before the food is even ready. I’ll heat something up or order whatever. Your pick.”

 

“The first one it is, then.”

 

Phichit offered help, but Seung Gil persistently refused. It’s just placing a pot on a stove, he said. Any adult who isn’t afraid of heat can do it.

 

“What’s inside, though?” he peeked to see the delicious-looking, vegetable-lacking stew. “Well, Seung Gil, shouldn’t you start to eat more veggies?”

 

“What? I told you they’re disgusting,” Seung Gil shrugged. “Seaweed is the only tolerable one. Here, have some.” He shoved Phichit a small, woven basket contained of toasted salted seaweed.

 

“This is called _gim_ isn’t this?” Phichit took a sheet into his mouth, mumbling about the dainty, salty taste.

 

“Yes. How’d you know?” he took one of his own.

 

“I studied a little of Korean culture and language before I came here to stay” Phichit explained. “It’s not like I’m fluent, but at least I’m not going to be that blind.”

 

“Then, do you like it here?”

 

“Of course! I love it very much. I’m happy to spend my whole year here with you. Besides, the foods are so fantastic and spicy. I’m surely going to gain a lot. But, not eating veggies is unhealthy, Seung Gil! Maybe I should force-feed you, hm?”

 

“Oh, I do eat vegetables. It’s just that I must have a full bottle of water by my side.”

 

“Hmm,” Phichit grinned, and took his phone from his jeans pocket, which he hasn’t done since his arrival in Seung Gil’s home. “Honey, smile!”

 

Instinctively, Seung Gil turned his head to the source of voice, which, he assumed, was calling out to him. Big mistake.

 

_Snap!_

“Wait—no! Delete that. _Delete that_.”

 

“But you look so cute,” he bounced from his seat, waving his hand above his head so that Seung Gil couldn’t get a hold of the phone. “Though just deleting this one won’t make a difference; I have a whole album of your candid pictures!”

 

Seung Gil cursed and chased Phichit around the cramped kitchen. They were so much like innocent little children, and Seung Gil partly blamed himself for conducting such immature activity, but the other side of him enjoyed the fun.

 

As fun as it was, he knew they didn’t have time to fool around; otherwise the stew will bubble in terror from being boiled too long and overflow from its pot.

 

Well, sometimes, drastic measures must be taken.

 

“ _Phichit,_ ” he pressed a hard pressure on his word, and (for the second time of the evening) grabbed on Phichit’s collars to kiss him roughly. Seung Gil teeth grazed his lip, then slowly chewed on them.

 

When kissing, Seung Gil knew no boundaries. That should explain the sore in Phichit’s jaw and the slight swell on his lips every time he gets back home after even the briefest meeting with Seung Gil.

 

He pulled away, still in a rough manner, then quietly, but hurriedly to the stove. He prepared the food, and the drinks too – and he did it as slow as possible. He smiled to himself when he heard not a sigh or a witty murmur.

 

He always knew how to disarm someone like Phichit.

 

Kiss him.

No tips and trick. Just kiss him.

 

However, that won’t be permanent. In a mere minute, Phichit was highly functioning again, saying, “My, you’re such a beast, Seung Gil,” he caressed his own lips and stared at the fingers that was used to touch, looking for traces of blood. “Remember when we made out in the dressing room and then Yuuri—“

 

“No,” Seung Gil said, not wanting to hear the full version of the embarrassing story. He placed the bowls of soup and rice and empty glasses, along with a clear plastic jug of water on the dining table. It was a simple meal, but it was the togetherness that mattered the most for them.

 

Seung Gil said something in Korean, which Phichit assumed as something that you should normally say before eating for the sake of being polite. He filled the glasses with water, and instead of eating, he stared at Phichit, and to the food.

 

“What?” Phichit asked.

 

“ _What?_ Why aren’t you eating?”

 

“You were waiting for me?”

 

“Isn’t it quite impolite to be so eager?”

 

“You don’t need to be so formal with me.” he said this, but he proceeded to grab the utensils because he knew that if he didn’t, Seung Gil wouldn’t as well. “Wait, what was the table greeting you said earlier?”

 

Seung Gil repeated, Phichit imitated (horribly).

 

They ate in silence, and they took their time doing so. The stew was really good, and Phichit was tempted to finish it in one go. He didn’t know much about Korean dining etiquette, but he knew that it would be improper to rush.

 

“Go take a shower,” Seung Gil said when they were done. He was busy scrubbing the bowls with sponge, while Phichit the glasses. “You must be sweaty after all that furniture-lifting job.”

 

“Furniture-lifting!” Phichit guffawed. “It wasn’t as if I had myself replacing your refrigerator, Seung Gil. Are you going to bring that up for the rest of our lives, just like the milk incident?”

 

Seung Gil gave a slight grin. “Maybe. And, before you ask, I have taken a shower on my own, so not tonight.”

 

“That’s a pity. But you promised we’d take a picture together.”

 

Seung Gil moved closer towards Phichit, pressing his cheek against his and slithered his arm around Phichit’s shoulders. “Go ahead.”

 

“I love you,” Phichit sighed, kissing him on the corner of his mouth.

 

Taking photos could be a minor hassle for Seung Gil. Look at the screen or the camera? How to smile properly? Is posing necessary? Strangely enough, doing it with Phichit made him feel happier than he ever wanted to admit. If memories can only be in our heads, then perhaps pictures can be the physical copies of them. He never wanted his memories with Phichit to be swept under the carpet of his mind.

 

Phichit clicked the button several times, producing about twenty photos of them, which were practically all the same.

 

“See? You look really good,” he leaned closer to Seung Gil when the arm around him stayed in place.

 

“So do you. But you’ll surely look better after shower.”

 

“I’ll do that. What are you going to do now?”

 

His tone changed from his usual cheerfulness into something low and maybe, just _maybe_ , sensual.

 

“Not joining you,” was Seung Gil’s succinct answer. He let go of his hold and left the kitchen, silently laughing when Phichit pouted and confessed about how mean Seung Gil was.

 

Despite that, he gave no complain, and soon complimented the cleanliness of Seung Gil’s bathroom since the last the he saw it. Just like any other rooms, the minimalism of the bathroom was probably unpleasant for Phichit’s eyes, and Seung Gil thought that Phichit would make it look fancy. Apparently, his instincts were wrong for the night.

 

He had just plopped himself down on the bed, when Phichit screamed hysterically.   


“IT’S SO HOT! SEUNG GIL! SEUNG GIL! I’M BURNING!”

 

“The right, turn to the right!” Seung Gil yelled back, peeking to see steam rose from behind the curtain. “Are you all right? Are you really burning?”

 

“Not to the point my skin peels.”

 

“You must have boiled yourself. I have ointments.”

 

“Well, do you want to come here and see how bad it looks?”

 

“Is that an invitation? Phichit, are you _truly_ okay?”

 

“Yes and yes.”

 

“If that’s how it is, forgive me, but I’m not interested in voyeurism.”

 

He meant that as a joke, obviously (he was still uninterested, thank you very much), but he went in anyway to make sure that Phichit wasn’t scalding.

 

Phichit was sitting, curled in the bathtub. He grinned and gave him his hand. Seung Gil touched it, and it felt warm—too warm, even, but it didn’t show any signs of burns. So he kissed it, quick but in a way that made both of them blush. “Be fast. It’s late.”

 

“Hmm.”

 

Before he could close the door, Phichit asked him if he’d mind taking the make-up pouch to the bathroom. His body was already betraying him by suddenly being super tired and numb, but he did what he was requested, then remembering that he hadn’t washed his face and brushed his teeth yet, much to his annoyance.

 

“Is it fine if I’m here to use the sink?” he asked.

 

“It’s you, right, Seung Gil?”

 

“Huh? Who else could it be?”

 

“I read a horror tale, once, in which some lady was taking a shower, and someone came in; she thought it was her mom, but it wasn’t.”

 

“I was planning on revealing myself to you earlier, looks like you debunked it first.”

 

Phichit swiftly opened the curtain, exposing half of his body and his horrified face. “Excuse me?”

 

“Chill. It’s me.” Seung Gil answered in a muffled voice, his mouth occupied by his ridiculously foamy toothpaste.

 

“You were freaking me out,” he sighed in relief and closed back the curtain. “That story was told to me over and over. My parents said that if I didn’t shower, the ghost will come to me and kidnap me at night. That’s why they used the story as a tactic to get me into the bathroom and actually turn on the tap.”

 

“Actually turn on the tap?”

 

“Yeah, it’s a long story. I used to sleep at the shower, clothes and all.”

 

After treating himself, Seung Gil went back to the room and immediately lied down. He pulled the blanket up to his neck, all the while unconsciously rubbing the soft fabric of the mattress in between his thumb and forefinger. He looked up at the ceiling—looking at nothing—and in a few minutes, he heard Phichit opening the bathroom door.

 

He was in the bathrobe. It suited him well, but Seung Gil’s mind was all over the place to pay attention. He could only hear him rustling through the closet and then a relieved sighed next to him.

 

“You seem to be really tired,” Phichit spoke. His voice was gentle and careful.

 

“Well, I _am_ tired.”

 

“Then, let’s go to sleep.”

 

“Hm.”

 

Phichit kissed him once on his forehead, then on the lips, and Seung Gil drifted into slumber right after returning it.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think UwU


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